Heart of the Entite
by Flamedancer33
Summary: Beings of magick, of power and grace. All Vaan can do is watch from a distance and wish for what may yet come to be. VaanxBalthier
1. Gnoma

This has been sitting on my laptop for about two years, and to be perfectly honest I never expected to post it. I do that a lot, starting something that ends up sitting there and collecting digital dust. However, a recent string of mishaps has resulted in a foot with two-to-three broken bones that have simply never gotten the chance to heal, and I was basically placed under house arrest by my very irate doctor. So now I have two months' worth of freedom and absolutely nothing to do, and being a person who responds poorly to boredom, I started searching the archives for any scribbles worth salvation and stumbled across this gem.

The good news is, most of these are already written. The bad news is, all of these are short. While this is not my first attempt at a slash pairing, it is my first story for this game. I've been around this site too long to bore you with the normal 'please r&r' trash. Instead, I say: please enjoy.

Disclaimer: I don't own FFXII or the characters. I'm just playing with them; I'll put them back where I found them when I'm done.

---

The first one was earth.

Basch called it gnoma later, when Vaan finally thought to ask. He didn't bother before because he cared little for such details. He had been half-listening to the others, mostly anxious to be on the move again, watching as the sands danced beyond Rabanastre's high west gate walls. The guards standing nearest to the open desert were faded smudges, the rocks Vaan knew to lay a few steps beyond them eaten entirely by a shifting wall of antique gold. Balthier, a man ill-designed for such exposure, was arguing against setting out into the tempest and pointedly ignoring the helpful fountain-sitter who informed them that this storm would take days to end. Ashe wanted to leave immediately; the sooner to gain her birthright, the better. Having volunteered their opinions, Fran and Basch both retreated a few steps, content to allow their more vocal companions carry on. Penelo stood in between the two groups, plainly torn between offering her knowledgeable input and keeping clear of the carefully shielded barbs.

Vaan sat on the chocobo paddock's fence, staring out at the Westersand and trying to figure out if he really did just see a glitter of gold amongst the swirling tide.

The young thief twisted around to peer at his… companions. He wouldn't call them friends, not quite. Penelo for sure, although she had been treating him differently since the _Leviathan_. Basch was decent enough after accepting his side of the story of the king's murder. Vaan sent a quick prayer skyward that Reks, wherever he may be, would forgive his little brother for trusting the man that may or may not have killed him.

Ashe was a bossy, impatient enigma. She was all set to lead their little group through a desert and two sandseas just to claim a shard of nethicite that could- could, mind you, not certainly would but _could_- put her back on the throne and allow her to rebuild her kingdom. They would still live under the empire's thumb, however, and Vaan had almost asked 'why bother with a queen if she could do nothing for her people? What difference does it honestly make if the empire's puppet is Queen instead of Consul?' But he didn't have the heart to so brutally kill the certainty and hope Ashe wore about her and so kept his thoughts to himself.

Fran was quiet and reserved but she could fight, could pick up the slack that less experienced warriors such as Vaan and Penelo couldn't. She minded her business and let them mind theirs and as long as Vaan didn't laugh when she found herself chasing away a man who enjoyed legs that never ended she didn't say anything about that one time she had caught him all but molesting the _Strahl_'s controls.

That thought line naturally segued to her partner, and thoughts of Balthier were chancy at best. Vaan turned back and studied the sandstorm again, trying to think of anything other than _a smile as slippery as quicksilver a brow arched in obvious amusement graceful hands dancing over airship controls and gun barrels a long lean body with clothes almost too tight_ Balthier.

And now he was moving towards the desert because there was definitely something out there and because fighting wolves and urstixes would leave no room for any errant thoughts. He was almost ten minutes into the storm when he abruptly remembered that he hadn't bothered to tell any of the others he was leaving. Thankfully he was prepared for a short stroll through Dalmasca's most brutal desert, and he knew exactly where he was even if he could barely see an arm's length in any direction, so he kept after the odd gold shimmer.

Balthier caught up to him seconds after the entite loomed into view.

It was massive, a sphere easily as tall as Vaan that floated effortlessly over the desert sand. Stones of every shape and color circled continuously around a bright, pulsating orb near the bottom. A flickering ethereal film contained the whole thing and it glowed not gold but bronze. Vaan stared, unable to properly catalogue what he was seeing, before reaching out with a hesitant hand to see what a piece of living magick felt like.

And then Balthier was there, snagging his elbow and yanking him away from the entite. The pirate was yelling in his ear, something about his just walking off and making the others worry and committing the wholly unforgivable sin of making Balthier risk getting sand in places sand had no right to be. Vaan only heard three words:

_I was worried_.

The little thief was still grinning like an idiot when the others appeared, spat out by howling winds and sifting sands.

The entite, naturally, was long gone.


	2. Salamand

This is the shortest of all the current chapters. After this they start getting longer.

Disclaimer: me no own.

---

Fire was second.

Twilight was spreading when Penelo spotted the salamand entite. It glowed like the dying sun, all scarlet and gold, and even though Basch judged it to be half a mile away it still caused Vaan to cast a shadow as he paced along the curving path around one of the giant refineries. The entite drifted serenely along the metal maze, apparently content to keep its distance, but Vossler had warned that the salamands were the most easily upset of the entite clan and had set up a guard to make sure it didn't get to close. That the entite had scared away all the Urutan-Yensa was a surer sign of its temper than any stories the soldier could tell, so Vaan took his duty seriously and watched the red-orange glow flicker across the expanse.

The entite slowly slipped behind a large metal column and after fifteen minutes Vaan decided it wasn't coming back around. He walked back to the fire, stopping abruptly when Balthier came into view.

As a man accustomed to necessities being in ample supply, the sky pirate was suffering the water rationing far more than any of the others. He was rolling his water skin in his hands, obviously wanting another drink yet fully aware of how much longer it had to last.

Vaan watched him for several long moments before unhooking his own skin from his belt. He walked over and offered it wordlessly to Balthier, who in turn sneered as if it were a poisonous snake.

"Go on," Vaan ordered. "I don't need as much, I'm used to this."

Balthier stared at him silently, weighing pride against thirst.

"Besides, Fran can conjure more," Vaan added. This was technically true, even though the Viera would rather not have to. Most water spells were nothing more than condensing the water in the air which clearly wouldn't work here. Instead she would have to actually create the water, a process requiring far more effort and energy.

Thirst won. Balthier smirked before draining half the skin in four swallows. Vaan stood rooted to the spot, watching as a single trickle of the precious liquid escaped Balthier's lips and slid down his neck. The thief felt dizzy as the drop trace the line of the pirate's throat before one long finger scooped it up and brought it back up to his mouth. The fingertip vanished between pale pink lips and Vaan almost whimpered, probably would have if he hadn't forgotten to breathe a while ago.

"Where's the entite?" Balthier asked abruptly, his tone even and business-like.

"Duh wha?" came Vaan's intelligent reply.

"The entite. Don't tell me you've lost it."

"Uh, no," Vaan stammered after a moment's confusion. _What is this of which you speak? I was too busy watching you make love to a water drop._ "It's, uh, it's right there."

And indeed it was, by some minor miracle, floating into view several platforms over. The two watched it for a silent moment before Balthier handed the water skin back. Vaan watched as the pirate stood and stretched.

"I think your shift is over," Balthier informed him, even though Vaan knew he had at least another half hour. Instead the thief nodded dumbly and sat down in Balthier's place as the older man walked away. After a long silence Vaan lifted his water skin and peered at it, trying to sort out muddled thoughts.

Far away the salamand entite followed its meandering path. By morning it was gone.


	3. Mardu

During the first time I played XII, I ran into every single entite in the game during the actual storyline. In my encounter with the thunder entite, the Mardu Entite, I ended up dying. It was the third entite I'd run into and like the previous three I did something to upset it. This, however, was the first one where I was too far from an exit for my strategy of 'scream and run' to work. And so I died. Which sucked.

Regardless of bad memories of the area, I still like this chapter best. Let me know if this makes sense to anyone. I'll be needing you to explain it to me.

Disclaimer: I'm just borrowing them, they'll be back soon good as new. Kind of.

---

Thunder was next.

Despite having lived in Rabanastre his whole life, Vaan had never ventured into Giza during the rains. He had never seen a reason- the monsters were nastier, the land was unrecognizable, and the nomads had moved north to the capital. It also rained a lot, as the name implied, and while most people would think that a desert child would revel in such a never-ending downpour Vaan quite wholeheartedly hated it. It was wet and cold and muddy- in short, completely and thoroughly miserable.

Balthier was just as fond of the storms. He was soaked through and covered in mud and swamp slime that he tried not to look at closely, and it was damnably hard to keep gunpowder dry.

They irritated the others enough that they had split into two teams again. Fran had volunteered to remain with her partner and the other three agreed quickly. So Vaan was stuck slogging through marsh-goop with a Viera purposely ignoring him and an increasingly frustrated sky pirate who was trying to dry out gunpowder in a manner that didn't involve setting it on fire.

Abandoned though it was, the nomads' camp was a welcome sight.

Vaan huddled under the dark crystal, which had a shallow alcove big enough for one person. Balthier paced restlessly around the camp, as though hoping he could avoid the raindrops by endless motion. Fran stood off to one side, expertly applying magick and common sense to the container of gunpowder.

"It is no use," the Viera announced finally. She handed the container back to Balthier. "You will have to do without until we reach Ozmone."

"Do without?" Vaan echoed. "What's he supposed to do, whack those giant toads over the head with his gun?"

Balthier shifted his weapon around, holding it as though he were considering whacking something blond and obnoxious. Fran merely shot Vaan a look of quiet contempt before continuing.

"I will go inform the others. You should remain here. The monsters will not enter the camp."

And she left. Just like that. Vaan stared after her, forcing himself to not react. He had been avoiding being alone with Balthier since that night on the Ogir-Yensa Sandsea- easy enough to do with four other people in their little group, but now he was suddenly there again.

"Will she be alright?" he asked hopefully, looking for an excuse to leave. Balthier gave his classic sniff of disdain.

"She'll be fine. It's us I'm worried about."

Vaan would have been insulted had he been paying attention. Instead he was frowning at nothing, listening to the steadily increasing crackle of electricity.

"What is that?"

Balthier glanced around, then pointed. A sphere of purple-white thunder was moving along the opposite bank. Vaan studied it carefully.

"Another entite?" When Balthier nodded, he added, "Aren't those things supposed to be rare?"

"We certainly seem to be encountering a fair number of them," the sky pirate answered mildly. He turned an evaluating eye on the thief, watching the boy try to sink into the crystal, before giving a grunt of annoyance. "Move over. Not too far, you're shivering."

Vaan hadn't even realized how cold he was until Balthier pressed into the niche next to him. The pirate was drenched but somehow warm and Vaan pushed against him, trying to soak up every shred of body heat. Naturally this clashed horribly with the keeping-his-distance plan, but the pirate was warm and Vaan was not. So he leaned against the older man and watched the entite and managed to not think about how bad this was, how bad this could get, until Balthier draped his arm around his shoulders.

Vaan froze. He forced himself to act normal, to keep breathing and staring at the entite, even as Balthier pulled him closer. Now he had no choice but to feel the graceful lines of the pirate's body, one knee brushing Vaan's thigh and Vaan's hand pinned low against Balthier's stomach, dangerously and temptingly close to the hem of his shirt and his fingers were moving of their own will, slipping lower and lower.

And then Balthier shifted, breaking away ever so slightly, and Vaan almost whimpered at the loss.

"You're still shivering," Balthier said, his breath caressing the back of Vaan's neck, and the thief shuddered. The pirate followed his glassy stare to the entite and frowned. "There's no need to worry. It won't attack us."

"Uh huh," Vaan answered distantly. A furious blush was now crawling across his face and he gently twisted free of Balthier's grip. "Thanks, I'm fine." He wrapped his arms around himself and took a measured step away. Never again, he told himself.

That was how Fran found them, close enough to be touching but with a near-visible wall between them.

Of the entite, there was only a faint buzzing on the wind.


	4. Sylphi

Because if you're writing a story about entites, eventually you have to have one throw a temper tantrum.

Level-wise, a party fresh off fetching Mjrn from the Henne Mines is in no shape to take on an entite. In the name of artistic license I shall ignore that. We'll say this entite was having a bad day and wasn't putting… his? its?... heart into the fight. Also note that this is the last one I wrote two years ago. All future chapters have been written recently- in fact, I refused to post a new chapter until the next one was done. The rest are planned out and at least partially written, making it four more after this one. Plus I'm also planning an epilogue of sorts, because when I was first writing this I had no idea how the game ended.

Disclaimer: I do not own FFXII. Probably you should be very grateful for that.

---

The fourth entite was wind, and it was noticeably less friendly than the previous three.

To be fair, it was no one's fault. The entite was a pale, misty yellow-green and was almost invisible in the abundant green of the Ozmone Plain. With a slight drizzle from the overcast sky it blended in well. Basch was carrying the unconscious Mjrn, with Penelo and Ashe fretting over her. The other four surrounded them and chased away the plain's inhabitants, which seemed almost tame after the monsters in the Henne Mines.

Vaan saw the entite just as Penelo started casting a cure spell and shouted a warning. He wasn't fast enough. The entite sensed the magick and spun on the group with something akin to a snarl. He had never seen an entite get angry before, hadn't known that something lacking in anything resembling emotions could so clearly express its rage. But this one did.

Basch yelled something Vaan couldn't hear over the sudden windstorm, but he got the gist- they couldn't run from this one, not carrying Mjrn.

"Aim for the halcyon!" Larsa hollered, somehow projecting his voice above the cacophony, and Vaan had just enough time to wonder what exactly a halcyon was before all hell broke loose.

The entite blasted them with constant aero spells, wasting very little time between casting, and Vaan found himself slammed into the ground more times than he could count. Fran had pulled out her magick arrows, the ones that petrified, and was returning the wind magick with her own singing volley. Larsa was using his technick that allowed him to attack from a distance while Balthier peppered the strange being with bullets. The three were spread far apart but moving together, trying to lure the entite away from Basch and Mjrn, but the entite was having none of it.

Vaan, for his part, hacked away at the glowing orb in the center. Every time his blade hit the filmy outer layer it sent a searing pain up his arm. His shoulder was wrenched at least twice, for being this close meant he was hit by every one of the entite's spells. Penelo and Ashe kept moving around, trying to keep him cured, but he knew he would feel this one for many days to come.

And then, with one more _twang-thunk_, Fran's arrow finally found its mark and the entite abruptly stopped. It seemed to collapse in on itself, giving a frighteningly human moan as the green sphere vanished with one last blast of wind.

The entite's dying gasp hit Vaan head on and knocked him flat on his back. He blinked up at the grey sky, feeling hurt and tired, and decided to close his eyes just for a moment…

… except someone was saying his name, someone whose voice was warm and glorious and comforting, and Vaan fought off the exhaustion and opened his eyes. Balthier was hovering over him, watching him carefully. His keen gaze sharpened when he saw the boy was awake and he leaned back, exhaling in relief. Vaan reached up with his good arm and dropped his hand over his eyes, trying to figure out what he was laying on- or better yet, where he was.

"We're in Jahara," Balthier said as though reading his mind. "We decided to wait here until Mjrn wakes up."

Vaan grunted in agreement before dragging his hand off his face and down to feel for what was pillowing his head. His questing fingers found Balthier's knee. The sky pirate caught his hand and gently pushed it away.

With a boldness he wouldn't have felt otherwise, Vaan hitched an elbow under him and lifted himself up. Balthier shifted his attention back, obviously about to scold the thief, but Vaan cut him off with a kiss. He was clumsy, unsure of himself, but with the same impetuous honesty that made him who he was. Balthier leaned in, letting the boy have his way- but only for a second. Then the sky pirate abruptly stood, sending Vaan sprawling.

"You're hurt," Balthier stated, as if Vaan hadn't noticed. "You're not… thinking… ugh." And the sky pirate walked away, one hand brushing against his lips. Vaan watched him go before dropping flat again.

"Just perfect," he muttered.

Several hours later they left the land of the Garif. When they passed the area where the entite died, Vaan paused. He ran his fingers through the grass and picked up a fist-sized stone of the same yellow-green hue as the entite. It glowed in his hands and as he turned it, he felt it hum gently.

"The halcyon," Larsa said. He smiled cheerfully. "It can sell for quite a bit, if you find the right buyers."

Vaan glanced at Balthier almost instinctively- the sky pirate would know the right buyers- then looked away just as fast.

The sky remained cloudy, the wind stilled, the plains stifling and grey. The entite of wind that had breathed life into the land was gone, an emptiness eventually to be filled by another.


	5. Leshach

The first of the chapters I wrote recently. The writing style is slightly different, but that's what happens when you take a two-year hiatus. This one is in honor of my mother, who once walked in as I was fighting the big dragon-dog Fafnir, saw Fran in my party, saw the blizzard, and asked the now-infamous question of "why is she wearing lingerie in a snowstorm?"

Needless to say, I had to take a small break so I could laugh my behind off.

Disclaimer: I do not own.

---

Ice came next.

Vaan didn't much care for the climate of the Paramina Rift. It was cold, bitterly so, and every step was treacherous with ice hidden under a thin blanket of snow. He had proven himself to be, in every way, a child of the desert as he slipped and slid and stumbled his way up the narrow paths and steep hills of the icy mountain. Penelo was having similar difficulties but Vaan lacked her natural grace, so where she kept her feet under her, he barked shins and banged elbows and bloodied hands. Before they even ran into the first monster, the thief was battered and bruised.

When the kiltias told them how far the Stilshrine was, Vaan had literally whimpered. For the first time since meeting Ashe and joining her quest, he balked. He wanted to stay at the refugee camp. The others, however, weren't having it, and he soon found himself trudging through a howling blizzard.

Basch led them through the rift with a familiarity he wouldn't explain. The captain kept his feet solidly under him- he was the only one who hadn't slipped yet- and despite the heavy cloak he wore, he could still swing his axe with the same deadly ease. Ashe stayed on his heels, grabbing his shoulder for support whenever she started to slide, and clutched her own cloak close to her for warmth. Fran followed them, occasionally stumbling, although despite her choice of footwear she hadn't yet fallen. Her arrows were useless in this wind so she used magick instead. Together the three of them carved through whatever fiends lay before them, guarding their companions from at least one of the mountain's dangers.

Vaan came next, a good distance behind them. He was getting used to the treacherous footing and had even managed to go without slipping for several minutes. It was simply a matter of following Basch's footprints exactly, carefully placing his feet in the impressions the captain left in the snow. This technique had its drawbacks, though; so intent he was on watching his feet, he would have walked himself straight into Basch had the older man not seen him coming and caught him by the shoulder. The thief looked up, surprised to see that they had for some reason stopped, then peered beyond.

The path continued down a steep, long slope, the snow scattered sparsely over black rocks jutting up like a wyrm's teeth. Had it been solid ground Vaan would have hesitated before trying to descend. With the wind pushing at their backs and ice glittering a warning from every surface, he wasn't willing to even consider it.

"There are other paths," Ashe said from where she was studying the map.

"They are all as steep," Basch answered. What he didn't say was that they should have turned back when the blizzard began. Between the wind and the ice, they were lucky no one had been seriously hurt yet.

Penelo carefully inched over to the princess and frowned at the map. "There must be another way down," she said, more to herself than anyone else.

Vaan took one step towards the two girls, then another. His cautious movements took him closer to the edge. When he realized this he lurched forward quickly. Too quickly. Snow slipped under his feet, baring a thick sheet of ice that Vaan was standing on. Before he could begin the actual act of falling, a hand seized the back of his cloak; for a moment he was balanced. Then his foot slipped again and he was over the edge.

He didn't remember much from the fall itself- something hitting his ribs hard enough to drive the breath from him, snowflakes stinging his face, a sharp edge laying open his arm. The actual impact with the ground was lost. All he knew was burning pain and the panicky feeling of suffocation. For half a moment he struggled to breathe. Then he flung his arms over his head as displaced snow and several small rocks came raining down.

Vaan stayed still, content to lay there and simply breathe. He watched a scarlet bloom slowly spread across the snow and reached up, gently outlining a nasty gash over his left eye. There was an odd tugging feel in his arm; he turned it over and saw a long, shallow cut from wrist to elbow.

It was only when Balthier spoke that the thief realized that the ground he was laying on was breathing.

"Well," the pirate grunted, his breath stirring Vaan's hair as he spoke, "that was certainly one way to get down here, although I daresay you'll have a difficult time convincing the others to take your shortcut."

The boy let out a weak laugh and shifted uncomfortably. Things between himself and Balthier had been awkward at best since that day in Jahara. Balthier had said not a word about the kiss, had pretended nothing had happened, and Vaan had followed his lead. In the days since both had gone to great pains to avoid one another and, when forced to interact, treated each other with the same cautious mistrust as when they had first met.

Vaan studied the rocks off to his right until he had formulated a decent apology. He opened his mouth to deliver it, but Balthier placed two fingers over his lips.

"Listen," he ordered, and the boy paused. Soft as the summer breeze, nearly drowned out by the blizzard's howling winds, was a voice.

At first Vaan thought the others had found a way down. He quickly corrected that thinking, however, for the voice was whispering in an arcane tongue he had never heard before and would likely never hear again. Slowly the thief looked to his left and found himself staring into the heart of the blizzard.

The entite was hovering almost directly over the two humes, its gentle whispering seemingly its way of voicing curiosity. Chunks of ice and large snowflakes swirled around its glowing center. From this distance Vaan could clearly make out the halcyon, which glowed a brilliant white and from which the ancient words were issued. The filmy outer layer was faded almost entirely, the thief and pirate lying within the sphere. They must have literally landed on top of the thing.

"Do not move," Balthier said slowly. The entite's whispering, so different from the snarling and muttering of the last one they had encountered, replaced itself with the normal humming as the being began to drift away. It was quickly swallowed by the blizzard, but when Vaan made to stand Balthier seized his arms and held him close. For several minutes neither moved; finally the pirate released him and both staggered to their feet.

"We fell on it," Vaan said in amazement, shocked at the lack of aggression.

"Fell through it, more like," Balthier corrected. "It appears to be far more understanding than its Ozmone kin, for which I am grateful." He started to wipe the snow off his shirt, then stopped and held his right hand out in front of him.

Vaan peered into the blizzard, first looking after the entite, then up the slope to see if the others were visible. He was about to call up when a hand grabbed his wrist and twisted his arm around, revealing the wound to Balthier. The pirate muttered under his breath and tugged Vaan away, heading opposite of the entite's direction. After a minute he stopped and pressed close to the rocky cliff face.

"Be ready," he ordered grimly, then cast a healing spell. Vaan watched in morbid fascination as his flesh knitted together. The wound was almost healed when he remembered the entite; by the time he looked up it was obvious that the ethereal being was a fair distance away, else it would have already attacked.

After that the two huddled close together against the rocks, safe from the wind and warmer with the other close by. Vaan toyed absently with a loose thread hanging from the torn sleeve of his cloak. Finally he spoke.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"For what?" Balthier asked after a brief silence.

"For kissing you," Vaan answered. He immediately snapped his mouth shut, ducking his head to hide the furious blush spreading across his face and wishing he could take the words back. Certainly that had been very different from the _for dragging you off a cliff_ that he had intended.

"You were injured," Balthier replied carefully. Vaan made a neutral noise, still absurdly fascinated by his feet. The pirate took this as encouragement and continued. "You weren't thinking clearly. It would be poor of me to hold it against you."

Vaan muttered something that, with a liberal application of imagination, could be taken for an agreement. He dared a glance at Balthier and found the older man studying him thoughtfully; when he started to speak the pirate looked away.

Although there were those who would say it was only twenty minutes, it felt like a small eternity before the others found them. The rest of the trip went without incident. By the time they left the Stilshrine and began their desperate race back to the mountaintop temple, the blizzard had settled.

Of the entite, there was not another sign.


	6. Diakon

I don't suppose I need to tell you lot how hard it was to write this. This chapter is a new record in the 'most frustratingly stubborn thing ever written' hall of fame. Seriously. I wrote a nine-page book report on a book about the geological birth of America that was easier than this. I erased and rewrote it about forty times, and when I finally got something I was kinda happy with, _the damn entite wouldn't cooperate_. I could not for the life of me get that floating bastard to fit in the chapter anywhere. So I did something different.

On a happier note, the following chapters will be much easier. Only two entites left, children, and then the epilogue.

Disclaimer: me no own.

*****

The Holy entite was next.

Vaan buried his sword into a Vivian, the latest Marlboro terror, up to the hilt before wrenching it back out. The plant-monster keened a death shriek and fell onto its side; the thief kicked it over the barrier and off the platform. He groaned as he rolled his shoulders, the tense muscles feeling as though they had been tied into knots. He had no idea how long they'd been in here, as the dim lights of Giruvegan were not conducive to judging the passage of time, but the seemingly endless stream of monsters would wear out even the sturdiest of people within short order.

"Coming, Vaan?" Balthier asked impatiently, and the thief groaned again. Ever since they had encountered his father, Balthier had had a different take on this journey of theirs. No longer was he here for any reward or for the blessing of she who would be a Queen. Now he was involved, motivated by personal agendas, and it made him annoyingly driven. More than once Vaan caught himself yearning for the days before Archades, when Balthier had been uninterested and uninvolved and Ashe had been the obsessed one.

This, of course, wasn't to say that Ashe had lost any of her fervor. Quite to the contrary- she was getting worse, pressing on without stopping, pushing her small party to the breaking point on several occasions. Many times pirate and princess were reined in only when the other four refused to take one step further.

Vaan started up the path towards the impatient pirate, stumbling only a little when the path began to slope upward. Everything was blue here, he thought wryly. There where yellow-white lights floating where the ramps split off from the platforms but they were worst than useless, their color picking up and being reflected by a Mist so thick he could taste it. The ambient light, weak though it was, seemed to be coming from the ceiling high above and the crystalline floor below. The monsters here took advantage of that and were matching shades of blue, often resulting in his not seeing his enemies until they attacked. With her Viera eyes Fran had an easier time spotting them and so walked out in front, bow at the ready.

They had split off a while ago, after the first gate stone. There were at least two more gates, and Ashe and Balthier quickly decided to split into two groups to find the gate stones. They had informed the others of this plan by suddenly heading in different directions. The other four had immediately chased after them, instinctively falling into the familiar groups of three, which meant Vaan now had to deal with Balthier barking at him and Fran getting dangerously close to casting Silence on her partner.

Not for the first time, Vaan found himself thinking of Rabanastre. He wondered idly what he would be doing now if he were home, quickly putting that aside when he couldn't figure out if it was day or night. Ever since visiting Archades he had been feeling homesick, a point driven home by the change in the party's temperament. There was no more time for anything now; no time for relaxing, no time for rest, no time to slow down and take in the sights. Everything was _go go go. _While he knew he wasn't here to play tourist he also knew his chances of coming back to such places as Giruvegan under less dire circumstances were slim at best.

He made it up the ramp and onto the next platform without incident, fighting off the exhaustion that was sweeping through him. The other two were showing no signs of slowing down. Then again, the other two were a Viera and a possessed gunman. He was a hume boy with a sword, although by this point he was a hume boy who was damn good with a sword. Vaan considered the next ramp leading up and sighed. True, he was in better shape now than ever before, but Giruvegan was less a test of his strength and endurance and more a form of torture.

"The gate stone is only two platforms up," Fran said suddenly. "I will go ahead alone. You two should remain here and rest."

Vaan wanted to hug her. He settled for backpedaling until his spine hit the back wall and sliding to the ground. It would take a team of chocobos to force him back to his feet now.

"Are you certain?" Balthier persisted. "This city is a dangerous place, Fran, and-"

The Viera turned to face her partner and gave him a _look_. Vaan had been on the receiving end of that chilling stare a half dozen times, such as the incident where he had asked about her age. It gave one the impression that she was asking herself why she tolerated such witless specimens of an obviously inferior species. Wisely, Balthier bit back the rest of his words and gave a nod of agreement.

For several long minutes after she left, Vaan was content to simply breathe. Balthier stood in front of him, occasionally glancing over the edge of the platform into the abyss below. He was not as unaffected by their demanding pace as he may wish, for his own breathing was heavy. Vaan watched him, hypnotized by the movements of his chest and stomach.

Distantly the boy became aware of a burning pain in his shoulders and back. If he didn't get up now, his muscles would lock up and he would become an even bigger liability. With a tired sigh Vaan forced himself to his feet and began to walk in a lazy circle.

In the tense silence, it was easy to get lost in thought. As he paced, rolling his shoulders in the vague hopes of regaining limberness, he mentally worked over everything that had happened so far. It was difficult to believe that a simple quest into the palace treasury for petty retribution had somehow morphed into an epic crusade tracking across most of the known- and a good deal of the unknown- lands.

"Why do you hate your father, anyways?"

Oh. Well. That was... sudden. He didn't quite know why he'd said that. Certainly there were better ways to have phrased that particular inquiry, most ideal of which being to have not asked at all. The ever-present awkwardness between thief and pirate soared to a new high as Balthier visibly bristled.

"I fail to see how that is any of your concern," the older man bit out. Vaan was quite content to leave it at that, although he did wonder why he was cursed with companions who refused to speak of their past. He cast about for something, anything, else to talk about. Anything to dispel this tension that had settled over them.

"What do you think is down there?" he offered. Balthier took an agonizing few minutes to answer, and once he did, his tone was one of finality.

"We'll see when we get there."

Conversation over. Vaan edged as far from the prickly gunman as he could without leaving the platform. He wanted to remind Balthier that none of this was his fault, that he had never had an active say in their party's plans. Except that this tension between them, the awkward glances and unending silences- those _were_ his fault. Not for the first time, Vaan cursed his inability to control his impulses.

Better to have admired unnoticed from a distance than to have been so badly burned while reaching out.

Behind him, Balthier shifted uncomfortably. Despite his preoccupation he was not oblivious to Vaan's mood. Since he had so handily shut down all of the boy's previous attempts at ambivalence, it was his turn to breach the silence. Naturally apologies and admittances of wrongdoings were not on the agenda.

"You've been quiet recently."

Vaan chanced a glance and found Balthier studying him carefully. His stance and the look in his eyes hearkened to the carefree sky pirate Vaan had first known. The reappearance of the old Balthier gave him the courage to try something he rarely contemplated.

He lied.

"That- that thing, in Jahara, I... I didn't mean it." Holding that gaze was too much; Vaan picked out a likely spot on the crystalline floor and memorized it. "I'm sorry. I was just- it was an accident. I don't know why I did that."

Because he was studying the ground so intently, he didn't see the myriad of emotions that flickered across Balthier's normally controlled face. They chased each other, moving too rapidly to be named, until the familiar mask once again resurfaced. The pirate nodded once, as if receiving conformation of something he already knew, and turned away. There was plenty to say, things that needed to be said, but neither hume would be first to speak.

Partway up the ramp leading to the platform, another being hesitated. It hovered for a long moment, as if waiting for something.

The entite was a soft golden-white color, its filmy outer layer almost opaque, a sort of shimmering pearlescence with pale lines dancing across the surface. It had a prism-like rainbow of colors and inherent fragility that put those few who saw it in mind of a soap bubble. However, it was as powerful as its cousins. Self-assured, confident in its powers, and eternally curious, it had been on its way to investigate its guests, except something had changed.

Had someone spoken the entite's language, and been present to ask why it stopped, it would not have been able to provide a satisfactory answer. The best it could do would be to say that it suddenly _felt wrong_.

For another few minutes the entite debated. Then it turned and began its long trek back.


End file.
